The Date
by seditionary
Summary: Bruce Wayne is ready to face an uncomfortable truth about himself, but when he makes a bold move, he quickly finds he is in over his head. Will he make the best of it? Or will a certain unexpected clown create more chaos in his life than he likes?
1. The Date

**A/N: This is posted at Live Journal as a response to a prompt: "All the world's a stage, and the men and women merely players..." or something like that. Anyway, it's AU, the Joker's a criminal with mob connections, but I'm totally ignoring the events in TDK. It's Nolanverse, Heath's Joker, of course, and it's meant to be humorous. There are more chapters to come, please let me know if you like!! Oh, and I don't own anything or anybody, etc....**

**Seditionary**

* * *

"Good afternoon, Arturo's Day or Night Escort Agency, this is Donna, how may I help you?"

"Yes...I'd like a, um, _date..._for this evening, uh, please...."

"Yes, sir! I can help you with that. Male or female?"

"Uh...well...male, I guess...."

"Certainly, sir. Any physical preferences?"

"Ah..._what? _I'm sorry, I've never done this before...."

"I understand, sir. I was asking if you have any particular preferences for physical characteristics, you know, height, weight, hair or eye color...."

"Oh! Uh, no, not really...I mean...well...maybe not too short. Or, you know, too heavy...."

"Uh-huh. Tall and skinny?"

"Yeah! That sounds good...."

"Dark hair or blond?"

"I don't care...um, blond, maybe...."

"Right. What price range did you have in mind?"

"Excuse me?"

"Well, a basic escort for the evening is $300.00. If you wish to have additional private time with your date, that will be $1000.00, plus tip. That fee entitles you to a full spectrum of services. We call it the _"Enchilada Grande" _package."

_(silence) _

"Sir?"

"Uh...."

"Now, that does not include any S&M or B&D type activities, for that I'll need to give you a different number, let's see, that's 555-1...."

"_NO! _No, no, I just...."

"We do have a less expensive package, the "Mini-Taco", would you like for me to go over that with you?"

"No, no, uh, _money_ isn't the issue...look, do I have to decide that now?"

"Yes sir, but there's a money-back guarantee if you're not happy with our choice of escort."

"Oh, ok. Well, the whole, uh, enchilada thing, then...."

"All right. If you'll give me your name and credit card number...."

"Uh...Bruce. Bruce..._Smith."_

* * *

That night, Bruce waited anxiously in the hotel room for his date to show up. He had never done such a thing before; even now, he was regretting making the bold move. Hiring an escort seemed so sleazy, so chicken-shit; why couldn't he be a man about it and just go to a gay bar and pick someone up?

No. He didn't have the courage. Besides, there was far more risk of exposure, even if he went someplace far out of town. And, besides, there was the threat of real danger--picking up a strange man in a bar was a good way to get himself mugged, robbed, even killed, and defending himself would lead to police involvement...the agency promised screened, bonded escorts, completely safe, completely secure. That was a comfort for Bruce, who was already apprehensive, contemplating his first time with a man.

He didn't want to get Batman involved.

This was for _him_, Bruce Wayne, and for him alone. A secret performance that would be known only to one other person besides himself. This was Bruce's chance to find out what he had suspected for a long time--a chance to find out if he was only playing a role when he took those lovely, expensive, unsatisfying women to bed. A chance to learn the truth about himself....

A sharp knock on the door shook him from his reverie. Damn it. Why had he done this? _Idiot. I shouldn't have done it..._nervously, Bruce strode to the door, hesitating just for a moment before flinging it open. It was now or never, sink or swim, do...or die....He opened the door.

Stunned, Bruce gasped at the sight before him.

"Took ya long enough. I haven't got all night."

The man slouching irritably before him was exactly as promised by the service--a tall skinny blond. However, they had failed to make note of the horrid scars that lined the sides of his face, deep slashes on either side of his mouth. They had also neglected to mention that the man was a criminal mastermind. Or that he was likely to be armed with guns, knives, and/or explosives. OR, and this was not the least of Bruce's concerns, that he would be an impatient, smart-mouthed _son-of-a-bitch_.

They had failed to mention that he would be the _Joker._

Bruce stared. The man wore no make up and he was wearing a nondescript shirt, sport jacket and jeans, but there was no mistaking those scars. Or, that sneering, condescending half-grin. The billionaire realized he couldn't admit he knew who the man was, or he would risk revealing his true identity. And, he was not prepared to go to battle with his arch nemesis, especially since the villain now knew that Bruce had called for a _male_ escort. All he could do was step aside and allow his date for the evening to come in, and hope he could find a way to gracefully get himself out of this mess.

"Hello...." he said nervously.

"Yeah, hiya. So, what's up, Charlie? Got a big evening ahead of us, do we? Where you wanna go? The _theatre? _Opera, perhaps? We going to a teahouse afterwards to have cold cucumber sandwiches and _petits-fours_, huh?" The obnoxious little bastard spoke in an overly-solicitous, sneering tone, and he snickered as he held his hand up with his little finger outstretched in a mockery of a prim and genteel gesture.

"Uh...no. Actually, I wasn't planning to go out...."

"No? I'm an _escort, _see, I'm paid to _escort _you someplace. Unless you just wanna stay around here and _fuck...."_

"Well...."

"Oh, I get it. Wham, bam, thank you, ma'am, that kind of thing. Well, good, I wasn't in the mood for socializing anyway...." The surprisingly handsome blond threw himself on the bed with the TV remote in hand, switched on the set and began flipping channels as if he owned the place.

"Socializing?"

"Yeah, a rich nancy-boy like you's always got some posh affair to go to, right? I figured it was leather night down at the club and you needed some arm-candy, heh-heh."

"You know, I've never done anything like this before in my life!" Bruce exclaimed, aggrieved at the implication.

The Joker turned to actually look at his date for the first time that night. He looked him up and down, regarding him with a combination of pity and distaste.

"Waaaait a minute...did you hire me to pop your cherry? 'Cause I didn't sign up for _that...."_

"I...uh...look, this was a mistake, a terrible, terrible mistake..."

"I mean, I can do it, but I'm gonna have to charge ya extra...."

"No, really, forget it...."

"No, it's ok, it's just kind of a pain in the ass, so to speak, ha-ha...what with all the crying and hand-holding, 'now, just relax, it won't hurt as much as you think it will,' etc. etc. Time-consuming, you know?"

"NO! JUST FORGET IT! Really, please, just go, I've changed my mind...."

"Oh, really? What'sa matter, you don't like me or something?"

"It's not that...."

"Aw, is it the scars? Hey, wanna know how I got 'em?"

"No! Look, let's just call this even, here, here's a tip, you go on home and no hard feelings, ok?"

"Are you kidding? I have to get you to fill out a comment card after we're done, I don't want my rating to go down. Come on, give me a chance to make this right, am I not dressed up enough or something? They didn't tell me what to wear...."

"NO, really, it's not you, it's me, I just...like I said, this was a mistake, please, just leave, ok? I'll fill out your card and give you a good rating, don't worry...."

"What, for doin' nothing? What kind of chump are you, anyway? They're going to charge you full price if you do that...."

"That's ok, I don't care...."

"Ah-ha-ha, a rich fucker, huh? You're sayin' you'd rather get rooked out of a grand than take a roll in the hay with _me? _Look, pal, I didn't come here to be insulted. I want to know what's wrong with me that you're too good to get laid all of a sudden."

"Really, it's nothing to do with you!" Bruce lied. "I just, you know, changed my mind...."

"Heeey...are you really a virgin?" asked the Joker, pointing a finger suspiciously at his host.

Bruce turned his head and didn't answer.

"Aww...you _are, _aren't ya? Jeeze, I thought you were kidding...listen, I'm sorry. Really. It must of been hard for you to make that phone call, and here I am raggin' on you, givin' you a bunch of shit for being such a pathetic little queer and all..."

"No, no, it's ok, just _go_, please..."

"NO! _No_. Absolutely not. I feel terrible! Let me make it up to ya, come on over here with me, big guy...." The Joker gave a disarming grin and patted the bed next to him invitingly.

"No, that's ok...."

"Uh-uh, I'm not leaving until we work this out. I take pride in my work, you know? I've never had a dissatisfied customer! Now, come on, sit down here and let's see what we can do about this situation."

"Really, I've totally changed my mind...."

"Naw, you've just got cold feet. Perfectly understandable. It's tough, comin' outta the closet at your age!"

"My..._age?"_

"Uh...never mind, look, come on! Come on...that's it, sit right here, nice and comfy. Right next to ol' Uncle J." He winked slyly, smiled a rather disturbing smile, and held his arm out in a welcoming gesture. Numb, Bruce found himself hesitantly taking a seat next to his "guest".

"There, that wasn't so hard, was it?"

"Uh...no, I guess not."

"Sure, we'll just take it easy, no hurry, huh? Get to know each other a little bit...." With that, the Joker lunged at the dark-haired man and gave him a big, sloppy kiss. Bruce flailed about with his arms for a moment before relaxing into the embrace, finding the blond's warm mouth to be rather enticing. But when the Joker's tongue reached the back of his throat, Bruce pulled away.

"Now, just a minute! I thought we were going to go slowly...."

"Well...yeah, I mean, starting off with a kiss is pretty slow in my book. You're really freaked out, aren't ya? Ok, let me think...hey, how about a hand job, that's pretty non-invasive...."

"Uh...no, that's ok." Bruce was now utterly confused, torn between the fear of the unknown, his horror at discovering his date's true identity, and being intrigued by what had already been a rather pleasurable sample of the kind of forbidden activity by which he had been tormented for so many years.

"Maybe we could just...hold each other?" he asked hopefully.

The Joker stared at him in consternation.

"Aw, shit. You know, I gotta be honest with ya, pal, this isn't really my thing. I'm kind of a 'get this show on the road' kind of guy, I've got two more dates for the evening, an old lady and a regular, and you're going to throw me off schedule. Listen, how 'bout we take a rain check, ok?"

"Rain check?"

"Yeah. Here's my card...." The Joker pulled a playing card out of his jacket pocket, a "Joker" card with a phone number jotted on it in red ink. At least, Bruce assumed it was ink.

"Think it over and give me a call when you want to, you know, consummate the deal. It's ok, I won't charge you any extra. We'll take our time, maybe get some room service, and when I'm done with ya, you'll be ready to make the rounds with the pretty boys down on 53rd Street, huh? Whattya say?"

"Well...I'll think about it."

"Sure, why the hell not? Listen, I'm gonna go, but fill this out for me, will ya? If I don't bring this back, they don't give me my commission." He handed Bruce a comment card. Bruce took a pen out of the nightstand drawer and hastily checked all the "excellent" boxes, signed his fake name and handed it back.

"Thanks, uh, 'Bruce', I really appreciate it. Now, you mentioned something about a tip...."

"Oh, yes, here. Thanks."

"Great! All right, well, have a nice evening, and don't wait too long to give me a call...I'm a busy guy, you know, but I'll fit ya in."

"Ok."

With a wave of his hand, the blond assassin shambled out of Bruce's hotel room.

Bruce stared at the card with distaste and crumpled it into a ball. He dropped it in the waste can.

After a few moments, he retrieved it, smoothed it out, and stuck it in his wallet.

Maybe he'd just had a bad case of stage fright.


	2. Bruce Makes Another Date

**A/N: Hello! Thank you so much to everyone for reading, and of course, for reviewing! This chapter has some fairly explicit s-e-x happening toward the end (Bruce & Jack), so please be warned. Hope you like!**

**Seds**

*******

Collette Dupree was feeling good. She had finally succeeded in wangling a date with the handsome and rich--the _very_ rich--playboy, Bruce Wayne, and she just knew something really great was going to happen tonight. They'd have dinner, perhaps go dancing afterward, and sooner or later, they'd end up at his place. And then...._yum. _That man had the most gorgeous eyes. And lips. And, that bulge in his crotch looked absolutely delicious. She could work with that, she knew she could.

Bruce Wayne was notoriously unobtainable, but Collette was undeterred. She thought she might have a different angle, a new take on an old problem. She knew what men liked, but more importantly, she knew what they _needed._ And she was good at giving it to them. Bruce Wayne was just a man, after all. He could be had--she just had to figure out the proper role to play. Whore? Madonna? Mommy? She didn't care--she'd make his dreams come true, and then he'd be hers. Why not? He had to fold sometime.

She put the final touches on her long dark hair, checked how her tight black dress hugged her perfect little figure--hard-won after many months of strict calorie restriction and tedious hours in the gym, plus a little lipo and breast augmentation surgery--sprayed a good-luck dose of perfume on her throat and cleavage, and strutted confidently out the door.

* * *

Like a cat wanting petting, Collette backed up to Bruce and pulled her hair away from her neck to reveal he zipper pull on her dress. She shot an arch glance over her shoulder, smiled dreamily, and shimmied her shoulders to encourage Bruce to take the pull in hand and slide it down, the enclosure tightly following the length of her spine.

Bruce gave a quiet sigh and began the move that would inexorably lead to yet another awkward and inelegant bout of unsatisfying sex with someone he was neither attracted to nor intrigued by, and which would ultimately create resentment for her and guilt for him. As Collette shimmied again, this time to send the dress down over her arms and past her hips to drop into a shiny satin pool around her feet, Bruce felt the cold fingers of dismay and regret take hold of his heart and _squeeze _it like a grapefruit.

He watched as the very lovely young woman stepped away from him, giving him ample opportunity to appreciate the way her lacy black bra cupped her full breasts and her sleek thong accentuated her flat tummy and rounded hips before she smilingly slipped out of them. He was just resigning himself to his role in the inevitable performance--that of appreciative suitor and valiant lover--when something absolutely wonderful happened.

He coughed.

Collette was a health-conscious person. In fact, it would not be overstating the facts to say that Collette was germ-phobic. And a hypochondriac. And a tad obsessive/compulsive. The beautiful brunette dropped her lash-batting, hip-swaying behavior and shot a narrow-eyed look of dark suspicion at Bruce.

"Are you all right, Brucie?" she asked, trying not to betray her fears.

The girl's reaction was not lost on the billionaire. Bruce considered. There might be a plausible way out of this after all....

"Uh...yes, _(cough) _yes, but I think I may have a little cold _(cough) _coming on, sorry!"

"Really? Gosh, do you have a fever or anything?" the girl asked, sounding slightly wary around the edges of her concern.

"Oh, I doubt it! _(cough, followed by slight wheeze)_ But, now that you mention it, I do feel a little warm...would you mind checking my forehead?" Bruce asked, innocently proffering the area to her ministration.

Collette was unaware that her upper lip had briefly curled into a sneer of distaste (sending Bruce's heart into a swell of happiness) before she girded her loins and bravely strode forward to gingerly place her cool hand on the billionaire's warm forehead. _God damn it._ She had been playing this fish for weeks and she'd be darned if a little thing like double-pneumonia or influenza was going to stand between her and a possible lifetime of riches (she again reminded herself to be careful when presented with the pre-nup; she'd have to get her daddy, the lawyer, to send a counter-proposal) and by golly, she would stand tall and play mommy if that was what it would take to get him where she wanted him.

She was grateful to note that the handsome man before her seemed to be of normal temperature.

"I think you're ok, Brucie! You feel fine to me--actually, you feel absolutely wonderful!" she cooed, back to shimmy-mode.

"Great! (_cough, fake sneeze without use of hand or tissue_) That's good. Listen, let me go see if I have some Thera-flu or something, that might make my throat feel better."

"Your_...throat_?" she asked squeamishly.

"Uh-huh, it's been kind of sore and scratchy all day. I was so looking forward to our date that I just kind of put it out of my mind! But, now that I think about it, I'd better take something so that it doesn't interfere with our, um, _evening_, don't you agree?" Bruce gave a charming smile, coughed again, and gracefully stepped around the half-naked beauty to check his medicine cabinet. While he was in the bathroom, he managed to blow his nose, long and loudly, before making quite a show of fumbling around, looking for some over-the-counter elixir. He coughed once more, following up with a pathetic groan for good measure, and when he returned to the bedroom, he found Collette acrobatically reaching around behind herself, zipping up her little black dress.

"What are you doing, sweetie?" Bruce asked solicitously.

"Oh, well, uh....honestly, Brucie, I just don't think you're up to a romantic evening, you know? You really sound like you need to be in bed..._alone._ Now, I would stay and look after you, but you do have a butler, right? And there's no sense in both of us coming down with something, I mean really, you might need me to bring you some chicken soup or cough drops or something, and it would be a shame if I was laid up, too, right? So, I'll just be going, now you take care of yourself, ok? I'll give you a call tomorrow, maybe you'll have a chance to go to the doctor by then, find out if you're contagious, hm? Ok, well, bye now!" Collette waved as cutely as she could muster and gave a final bat of her long dark lashes.

Bruce's grin turned into a full-fledged smile as the slinky brunette slipped out of his bedroom without another word. Relieved, he sank into his easy chair, and celebrated by flipping on the television, looking for a medical show. If he was lucky, Bruce Wayne just might find a chronic condition to contract, one that is brought on by over-exposure to silicone breast implants and Chanel No.5.

* * *

The Joker had a gun in his hand and a smile on his face. This was going to be _good._

He was just about to approach the semi-conscious man slumped in the chair when his phone rang. Irritated, he started to ignore it, then decided to check the number. Hmm. Didn't recognize it....

"Yeah?" he snapped, gesturing to his henchman to attend to the stupefied man.

"Uh...hello? Is this, uh_, J?" _Bruce had no other name by which he could call him without revealing his secret.

"Yeah." The Joker held the phone a couple of inches away from his mouth, barking orders at his assistant. However, Bruce could still hear the clown's remarks perfectly well. "_Hey, tighter...No, tie 'im TIGHTER, what, you wanna take a chance on him getting away? _Yeah, who is this?"

"This is, uh, _Bruce_, from the other night? I met you through the, um, escort agency?"

"Huh?...._Listen, the red one's the gag, the other one goes over his eyes, can't you do anything right?...._Escort agency? Oh, yeah! The pansy needing his cherry popped, now I remember, how ya doin', bud?...._Dammit, he's gonna suffocate if you do it like that, pull it down lower!"_

"Uhhh...well, I'm ok....You know, I don't like it when you call me a...what are you, uh, _doing_, anyway?"

"What, me? Nothing...just a little, heh, _play_ we're putting on, don't mind me...._Get the smelling salts. I don't want him to pass out before we..._uh, yeah, pal, whatcha need?"

"A play? That doesn't sound like a play...."

"Oh, yeah, I volunteer down at the community theater every so often, we're doing '_Death of a Salesman'_, heh-heh."

"I don't recall anyone being bound and gagged in that play...."

"Yeah, well, we're doing an updated version, going for a grittier, more visceral approach, it's kind of avant-garde..._Jesus H. Christ, what the hell are you gonna do, tickle him to death? I mean it man, you gotta put some power into it or he's never gonna crack, crank up the amps a little higher..._anyhoo, so, you want to take another shot at it, do ya?"

"Well...yes, I think so."

"Great! I'm a little, ha, tied up right now, well, _somebody_ is anyway, but how about later tonight?""Ok." Bruce flinched as a strangled scream pierced his eardrum through the phone connection.

"Same place?..._NOW yer talkin'! Keep going, he's finally starting to pay attention!"_

"Y-yes, that's right."

"Ok! Well, make like an airplane and prepare to be boarded! Ha-ha, hoo, boy, I'm a riot, aren't I? Listen, I'll see you later, then, huh?"

"Uh-huh. Thanks."

"Yeah, good...._Say, is he turning blue? Gosh, I've never seen THAT before, how'd you do that? Good job!...." _Click.

Bruce snapped shut his phone, chewing his lower lip worriedly. He could NOT let himself get distracted. Batman had the night off, and whoever the poor unfortunate was that the Joker had in his clutches, he would have to fend for himself.

Bruce would not be playing a dual role tonight.

* * *

Bruce paced in his hotel room, the tension building in the back of his neck as the minutes ticked by. He could not believe he had actually taken the "Joker" card out of his wallet--for the hundredth time--smoothed it out a little more--for the hundredth time--and actually picked up his phone--for the _first _time. He had been fighting this battle with himself ever since the night the Joker showed up at his door, and now he had finally given in.

Actually, the fight had begun even before that. The first time, the very first time, he had faced this hidden part of himself was when he sat across the interrogation table from the clown in garish whiteface and verbally sparred with him just before physically laying into him. He'd never forget the slightness of the assassin as he picked him up and slammed him onto the table, the surprising substance of his body against his as he forced him against the wall, or the smell of him, all greasepaint, perspiration and gasoline, so disturbing yet so enticing....

The nightmares began after that, not the kind where he was being chased or threatened, but the kind where he was seeking something that couldn't be found....

Yes, he could have gone to a gay bar and picked someone up. But he didn't want "someone"...he wanted _him._ Why, he didn't know. But it was a yearning, a craving, a hunger he could no longer ignore. And as he made his way to open the door following the rapid-fire knock presaging the clown's arrival, he did know one thing. When that man walked into the room they would play their parts, perform the act, and when the curtain fell, Bruce Wayne would finally know who the hell he really was.

* * *

"Ha-ha, heh-heh-heh, oh, brother, we're going to have a big time tonight!" The Joker raised an eyebrow and gave a lascivious wink and lick of his lips as he waved a bottle of wine by way of greeting on his way into Bruce's hotel suite. He wore no makeup and had on a plain white t-shirt with his sport coat slung over his shoulder, but the purple pin-striped trousers looked disturbingly familiar to Bruce.

The Joker caught Bruce's gaze and glanced down at himself.

"Oh, yeah, sorry I didn't bother to dress up for ya, but I figured we weren't going to have our clothes on for long anyway, am I right? Ha-ha-ha...."

"That's all right. What's that...stain on your pants, there?"

"This? Oh, I dropped a cheeseburger, that's ketchup...whadya think it was, blood?"

"No, no, I just thought, if you wanted to, you know, try to wash it out or something...."

"Naw, I'll take 'em to the cleaners later, no problem. So, you wanna do the small talk thing first, or just get right down to business?" Bruce noticed for the first time that the Joker carried a beat-up leather case and that he had opened it on the nightstand by the bed. He began taking items out of it and laying them out in an orderly fashion, like a doctor preparing for surgery.

"What's all..._that?" _Bruce asked apprehensively. He came to stand beside his guest and observed the box of condoms and tube of lubricant with a thrill of both unease and excitement. His level of stress increased considerably as the Joker continued to bring out more objects--some kind of massage oil, that didn't seem too bad, but then out came an unreasonably large purple dildo followed by antibiotic cream, bandages and some latex gloves, all of which sent Bruce's eyebrows crashing into his hairline.

"Now, just a minute! What the hell are you doing with those things? Surely you don't think...."

"Aw, relax, tough guy! This is my emergency back-up kit, I was just looking for...now where is it...oh, yeah, here we go. Ta-da!" The Joker triumphantly reached down deep in his case, brought out two packages of Mallomar cookies, and placed them next to the wine.

"There, now that's a feast. I figured I'd do something nice since it's your first time and all. You can't get these just whenever you want you know, they're seasonal. I keep 'em in my freezer for special occasions...." The scarred man grinned cheerfully at his about-to-be sex partner, and scooped all the disturbing items but the condoms and lube back into the case.

"Oh, uh-huh. Well, thanks...I'll get some glasses." Bruce hastily headed to the wet bar, grateful for the chance to catch his breath. He returned with two glasses and found that the Joker had already opened the bottle. He poured them each a serving.

The Joker raised his glass in a toast.

"Here's to a first time...for everything, eh?"

"Yes...I guess so." Bruce clinked his glass, trying not to think about what was to come, when the skinny blond pulled him into an embrace and kissed him. The taste of the wine on the Joker's warm mouth was delicious, and the feel of the Joker's demanding tongue exploring the dark-haired man's mouth sent shivers down his back, straight to his crotch. They grappled with each other for a long moment, then they set their glasses on the nightstand. Bruce gasped in surprise when the other man reached down and took him in his hand.

"Oh!" he said, steadying himself by grabbing the Joker's shoulders. The blond seemed to know just how to gather all of Bruce's equipment into his hand and squeeze without hurting him....

"Ok, pal, just relax...you've been wanting this, haven't you? You've been thinking about it for a long time...."

"Yes...."

"I know. Don't worry, I'll take care of ya. I _do _know what I'm doing, you know that, right?"

"Yes...I believe you do...." Bruce murmured, surprised to find so much comfort in that slightly disturbing thought.

"Take off your clothes...." directed the Joker firmly.

The men broke the embrace and both stripped down to their underwear. The Joker pushed Bruce onto the bed and lay down on top of him, kissing and gently biting him on his neck and shoulders. The sensations, alternately soft and sharp, sent little bursts of electricity through Bruce's nervous system.

He tensed when he felt a strong hand slip into his underwear. Calloused fingers grasped his manhood, but he found himself slowly relaxing as the stroking began and that warm tongue was returned to his mouth. The room was quiet, the only sounds were of their own making and the low soundtrack of the city's noises rumbling outside the walls. Bruce soon began kissing back, and running his own hand down to explore the other man's lithe body.

The Joker's practiced hand slid lower, taking his balls and rolling them together, bringing a moan from low in the powerfully-built man's throat. He felt his underwear being tugged at, and he raised his hips, allowing the garment to be pulled down past his knees. He worked his legs out of the confines of the fabric and took a deep breath, trying not to visualize the scene of himself lying naked beneath a scarred, murderous clown, while at the same time wishing there were a mirror on the ceiling....

"What...what's your name?" he whispered as the Joker sucked at his nipple.

"Call me Jack, if ya want," he answered off-handedly.

"Ok...Jack...um, that feels really _good..."_

"Yeah, I gathered," the clown smirked, amused, as he regarded Bruce's straining erection. "Here, let's see what you think about this...." Jack reached over to the nightstand and took a squeeze from the tube of lubricant onto his fingers. He proceeded to find Bruce's entrance and slipped one long, slender finger inside him.

"Oh, gosh...." Bruce gasped, startled by the intensity of the sensation.

"Relax, relax...you're gonna like this, just give me a second...." Jack probed deeper, keeping a firm arm around Bruce's waist as he searched for his client's prostate. When he hit it, Bruce arched his back eagerly. Another finger, some gentle thrusting, the feeling of being opened up, stretched...."Oh, God," Bruce moaned, feeling wonderfully helpless in the arms of his paid lover.

"You ready for the big time?" Jack eventually asked in a stage whisper.

"You mean...."

"Yeah, that's what you're payin' me for, remember?"

"I...yes, ok. I'm ready."

" 'K. Listen, can you turn around?"

"Oh...you mean...?" Bruce didn't particularly want to turn his back on the Joker under any circumstances, _especially _this one....

"No, no, I mean, move so that your head is at the other end of the bed. You can stay on your back, I don't mind lookin' at ya while we fuck."

"Uh...ok, but..._why_?" Bruce couldn't think of any sexual position that would be improved by him lying on the opposite end of the bed, but maybe he was just uninformed.

"There's a game on, and I don't get this station at my place. Do ya mind?"

Bruce was flabbergasted.

"Well, kind of! I mean--you're actually going to watch television while we...."

"Oh, don't worry, I'm great at multitasking, you'll have my full attention when necessary...."

"You know, for someone who values his performance rating, you're not great in the customer service department...."

"Hey, I came all the way back over here to give you some personal service for just a little extra charge...."

"You said no extra charge!"

"I did? Ok, well, fine. Look, I'll leave the sound off...." The Joker clicked the TV on, and muted the sound. "How's that?"

"Oh, for heaven's sake. Fine. Let's do this, shall we?" Bruce was now feeling a sense of urgency; having accepted the idea of the act taking place, he was just about ready to get the show on the road.

"You got it, gorgeous."

Jack stood beside the bed and slipped off his underwear. "Here, stick this under your ass," he ordered, handing Bruce a pillow. Jack climbed back on the bed and knelt between Bruce's legs, then worked a condom onto his erection. Bruce averted his eyes and stared studiously out the window. He felt rather like he did in the dentist's chair, trying not to look at the instruments on the tray....the blond slathered on a generous dollop of lubricant and without further ado, the Joker proceeded to deflower Bruce Wayne.

* * *

Bruce--bottom slightly sore, legs slightly achy from being held apart too long, lay beside Jack, feeling dazed, stunned and utterly satisfied in a way he had never dreamed possible. The size of the Joker's penis was absolutely startling, and he was quite convinced that there was no way such a thing could possibly ever fit in his body, especially _there_, but to his happy amazement, after a little bit of anxiety and a mildly wrenching pain as the Joker thrust into him for the very first time, everything seemed to fit together beautifully.

He stared up at the ceiling, oblivious to the fact that his bedmate was happily lying on his stomach, chin propped on his hand, deeply absorbed in the game on the television. Bruce gradually came back to awareness, and a slow grin crossed his face.

It was everything he had ever wanted, and more. That was it--he would give no more unconvincing performances to the beautiful women who threw themselves at him. Life was too short....He turned over and ran his hand down the bony back of his lover.

"That was incredible...I had no idea it would be like that..." Bruce kissed Jack in the spot where his neck and shoulder met, then nuzzled closer to him.

"Good. Weeell, the game's over, so I'll just be on my way...nice to meet you and all that, don't hesitate to call if you want another date, although they charge extra if you request a particular associate....I guess you can afford it, though!" The Joker started to roll off the bed, only to be stopped by Bruce's strong grasp on his upper arm.

"Hold on there. I paid for the "Whole Enchilada" package, remember?"

"So?"

"So, lay _down_, we're not done," Bruce growled commandingly. The Joker stared. That voice...where had he heard that voice? He couldn't remember, but it hit him in the groin like an electric current.

"Uh...you mean...?"

"That's right, 'pal', it's my turn...." Bruce yanked the clown down onto his back.

"Look, I didn't sign up for this, I'm more of a pitcher than a catcher...."

"Uh-huh, well, that's too bad. The fee I paid entitles me to a 'full spectrum of services....'" Bruce reached for a condom and the lube.

"But...." The Joker attempted to squirm out from under Bruce's weight, now that he was on top of him, but in spite of his deceptive strength, he was no match for Bruce's larger, heavier, well-trained muscles and he found himself firmly pinned to the bed by his shoulders.

Bruce slipped on the condom and applied lube on himself while straddling the Joker's midsection.

"You're kind of heavy there, big guy."

"Sorry, I just didn't want to have to waste any energy wrestling with you. I have a feeling I'm going to need my strength if I'm going to get my money's worth."

_"Money's _worth?" the Joker asked delicately.

"Oh, yeah. What was that hilarious line of yours--oh, yes, _prepare to be boarded_...."

"Oh, God...."

Bruce masterfully pulled Jack into a more comfortable position for him to slip his well-slicked member into the other's hot, tight entrance. He was delighted by how eager Jack became once he was sheathed deep inside him, suddenly writhing sensuously under him, welcomingly pushing his hips up to meet Bruce's hard, unforgiving thrusts. One thought made its way into the billionaire's otherwise sex-fogged mind--he'd made no mistake in casting his co-star.

* * *

"So, big guy. No complaints?" asked the Joker, his cheek against Bruce's chest, as he languidly ran his fingertips through the hairs on Bruce's taut belly.

"Well, other than you calling me insulting names and watching television while we, you know, _did it, _no, it was great."

"Satisfied customer?"

"Yes."

"All questions answered? All mysteries revealed?"

"Uh-huh, well, sex-wise, anyway."

"Was it worth it?"

"Every penny..._pal."_

The pair smiled at each other as they sat up to sip their wine and munch their Mallomars.

It was the perfect end to a perfect act.


	3. The Joker is Curious

**A/N: The prompt for this chapter was "Carve your name into my arm". Hope you enjoy, please review!! Thanks for reading!**

**Seds**

*** * ***

The hotel security manager lay in a heap in a corner of the camera room. He wasn't dead--the Joker had simply bashed him over the head, shoved him out of his chair, and taken his place in front of the multi-screen console. The clown was busily clicking through video images, looking for the camera that would have been trained on the parking garage the night before.

The Joker shifted uncomfortably in the seat, trying to find a position that relieved the direct pressure on his bottom. Much to his own surprise, he had allowed "Bruce", or whoever the hell he was, to fuck the living daylights out of him on their date last night, leaving him sore and raw. And, _curious..._he'd heard that voice before, he _knew _he had, but he just couldn't place it, not with that face. Maybe if he could take a look at the guy's car, run his license plate number, he could get some answers.

He identified the correct camera and began the tedious business of clicking through several hours of _incredibly _boring footage, looking for his client from the night before. He grinned a little as he thought back to their coupling--the guy was a damn virgin with guys, but he sure as hell got the hang of things in a hurry. The Joker knew he'd never forget the way the man had commanded him to lie on the bed, forced his legs apart, thrown them over his shoulders and entered him without a second thought, the way he had taken _control, _not just physically, but psychologically as well, his eyes, the expression on his face, and that VOICE, that goddamn voice, ordering him onto his back, taking him like he was a _prize_, or a spoil of war or something....

Not that he'd minded, ultimately. No....it had, in actuality, been fucking _fantastic, _some of the best sex he'd ever had, really....deep, hard thrusting that hit him right on the prostate, the strong hands holding him down, then grasping his hips, twisting and turning him like he was a piece of clay the brunet was shaping for his own pleasure, taking him to a level of ecstasy he'd sort of forgotten existed over the last few years. Making him moan and keen, pleading for _more_--harder! _FASTER_--and the cheeky fucker goddamn _giving _it to him, just the way he liked it...just the way he..._needed_ it.

He didn't want to hurt the guy.

He wanted to _thank_ him.

Yeah, that was it, he'd find him, contact him, and arrange another date. He'd tell him....um, what? He'd tell him he'd enjoyed the hell out of their evening together, tell him he kind of restored his faith in fucking, you know? Reminded him that it could be something more than a _job_....then, he'd tie him up and _work the bastard over with a freakin' billy club _until he told him _where the hell they'd met before and..._oh_, _god_damn _it, it was driving him crazy. But....

NO!... _No._ He'd be nice. He'd sweet-talk him, yeah, get to know him, and he'd ease him along until he slipped up, the fool'd say something telling, and then he'd figure it out. Then, he'd kill him! Or...fuck him. Or both! It depended....

Or..._shit. _Those eyes...that body...the way he'd held the Joker after fucking him, it had been so nice, it had been so long since he'd _relaxed_ around anybody like that...and, the guy was funny! And kind of sweet, in a weird way, and really respectful, you know? Even though he was paying him to get laid, he still treated him like a person, it was unusual. Classy.

The Joker liked that.

He was clicking through the images so quickly, he almost rushed past the one he was looking for due to his musings. He hastily backtracked and looked carefully at the dark-haired man. Yes, that was him. Handsome, well-dressed, a confident air about him, striding away from his car as if he owned the place, yet vulnerable, somehow...the Joker took the footage back a little further and was able to make out the license plate number, which he jotted down.

He'd find out the man's name and he'd get together with him again.

Damn it. "Bruce" was the kind of guy...the kind of guy who got under your skin. Or...fucking _into _it.

Like a razor blade....


	4. Bruce Will NOT

Bruce woke with a smile on his face. He still carried the memory of his raucous night of lascivious behavior with the Joker close to his heart, but it was time to move on, and he was ready. Ready to put it out of his mind and get back to work. Ready to _focus...._

He flung himself out of bed and was soon freshly showered, shaved and dressed for the office, all business, a well-turned out man in an expensive suit with a briefcase full of meeting agendas and phone numbers hastily jotted on Post-It notes, about to go on his way downstairs for a sensible breakfast. At the threshold, he stopped short, his hand on his bedroom doorknob.

Who was he kidding?

He was..._**ready.**_

He turned on his heel and went back to his closet. He found a small overnight case, pulled a casual shirt and a pair of jeans from their hangers, grabbed a change of socks and underwear, stuffed them in the bag, and, still smiling, continued on down to the breakfast table. Alfred heard his employer on the stairs and filled a coffee cup with the steaming brew, placing it in Bruce's hand as he walked into the breakfast nook.

"You look quite hale and hearty this morning, Master Wayne."

"Oh, thank you, I am feeling pretty well, I have to say. Must be all this healthy food you've been serving me."

"No doubt. Vitamins and nutrients, very important to a busy man such as yourself."

"Well, you can pat yourself on the back, it seems to have done the trick."

"Glad to hear it, sir." Alfred had been noticing a distinct air of unease and strain in his boss's demeanor over the last several weeks, and he had a strong notion that it had nothing to do with his boss's diet. But it had apparently evaporated into nothingness sometime in the last couple of days, and it was good to see.

After eating, Bruce picked up his briefcase and the bag, and jauntily strode toward the door, whistling cheerily. Alfred, missing nothing, cast a questioning eye in his direction.

"Planning an overnight getaway, sir?"

Bruce felt himself blushing. He hadn't blushed in years, but Alfred had a way of making him feel like an awkward teen when he caught him about to be "naughty".

"I don't know, Alfred. I'm just...being prepared."

"I haven't seen you so excited over a young lady in ages, Master Wayne, I hope everything goes your way."

"Well...thanks. I...yes, thanks. I'll let you know if I'll be home tonight or not."

"Very good, sir." Alfred gave Bruce a restrained smile, trying not to appear obviously delighted. Over the last few months, Master Wayne seemed to have been having a crisis of confidence where the fairer sex was concerned, and it was nice to see that things were taking a more hopeful turn. He knew Bruce wasn't in a situation where a long-term relationship could be made to fit in easily with his hectic--and dangerous--schedule, but it had been so long since he was even _slightly_ enthusiastic about his love life....

* * *

Bruce hastened to his car; he felt bad about leaving Alfred with a wrong impression, but, after all, there was no guarantee he would even be _having _a romantic evening that night; he was just going to go trolling. His date with the Joker, wrong as it was in SO many ways, had given him the confidence to finally move forward and seek out a more suitable lover. He had quietly researched gay bars out of state and had managed to find one that catered to a wealthy, high-profile clientele looking for discretion as well as romance. He might get lucky or he might not, but either way, he felt joyously excited about the possibilities.

And...he had the _Joker _to thank. A curious--no, a _bizarre_ situation, to be sure, but he didn't care. It had been worth it, _totally_ worth it. The Joker had taken him past the point of being immobilized by his own fears and shown him what he really needed from a sexual partner...and, maybe, eventually, from a romantic relationship, too. Although it was absurd to think of the Joker as being a model for someone Bruce could be involved with.

Ha-ha, no way. Of course not. It was just that it was now clear that a run-of-the-mill, buttoned-down collar, straight-laced sort of fellow would _not_ fill the bill. Never.

Not since Bruce had tasted the forbidden apple that was the Joker...he was..._exciting. _Challenging. Handsome, in a rough, disturbing way. Dangerous...so damned dangerous. And such a demon bastard in bed, oh damn it, sometimes Bruce thought he was _still _walking funny after spending a night with the clown. Although, every second had been a knee-shaking, mind-blowing, brain-melting _pleasure...._He tried to push those thoughts out of his mind. He would _NOT_ be seeing the criminal again, not under such circumstances anyway.

Not with the green dye washed out of his wavy dark blond hair, not with the thick greasepaint wiped away from his beautiful, scarred features. Not with his clothes off, revealing his lean, sinewy body, with the taut muscles flexing under pale skin as he....No.

Bruce Wayne would not see "Jack" again. Oh, _Batman_ might have a run-in with the _Joker_, would almost certainly chase and capture him, battle with him or face him across an interrogation table at the MCU, trying to defeat the reign of terror he had inflicted on Gotham's underworld as well as on its banks and financial security.

But _Bruce_ would NOT call the number on the "Joker" card, would NOT say the words to bring them together again for another night of raw, hot, unbelievable sex like the billionaire had NEVER KNOWN in his entire life and wouldn't have believed even to be _possible_ if he hadn't personally lain under the madman, experienced his piston-like hips driving that amazing cock into him, the clown's calloused fingers absently pumping Bruce's member until he felt like he was falling over the edge of a very steep cliff into a chasm of blinding pleasure. Only to then turn the tables and force that warm, skinny, squirming, wonderfully resistant blond body down onto the bed so he could crawl on top of him and plunge _himself _deep inside the deliciously tight, hot velvety channel, ramming into him again and again until he exploded so far inside him that only a little bit of the flood of thick creamy liquid ever leaked out...no, he would not, WOULD _NOT, _make that stupid, stupid mistake ever again....

Bruce's smile had faded, and he was pensively biting his lower lip as he approached the parking garage at Wayne Towers.

He would _not._


	5. The Joker Drops In

**A/N: First, thanks so much for all the reviews, I really appreciate it! Hugs, hugs all around!! Second, this chapter has some kind of slapstick, ouch-y sexy slashy stuff, just FYI. Poor Bruce....**

***

Whistling cheerfully, Bruce unlocked the door to his luxury office suite on the top floor of Wayne Towers. He deposited his briefcase next to his very large lacquered-top desk, and was just about to seat himself in his custom made black leather desk chair when the peaceful solitude of his domain was shattered by a low, devilish laugh.

Bruce whirled around to see the Joker, out of costume and contentedly perched on the bank of rich oak filing cabinets lining the wall, stretched out with one knee pulled up and his head propped on his left hand. His long blond curls were illuminated by the light from the window behind him, creating a halo-like aura that reminded Bruce of a perverse angel.

He was grinning like the damn Cheshire cat, a dazzling grin that sent a shot of desire through the brunet's groin, and Bruce was furious with himself for feeling a rush of delighted excitement that caused his stomach to jump. This was wrong, so very, very wrong....

"Jack! What the hell! How did you find me, how did you get in here?" barked Bruce.

"_Bor-r_ing. Ask me something interesting." The Joker swung his long legs off the cabinet and smoothly hopped to the floor. He then gracefully pulled himself into an upright posture, flicking at invisible detritus on the sleeves of his sport jacket.

Bruce flexed his fists. How was this man able to hit him square in the lust-center of his brain while at the same time making him want to beat the living crap out of him?

"All right, how's this--would you like to be able to walk out of here on your own, or would you prefer to be carried out on a stretcher?"

"Aw, gee, aren't you the tough guy. I'm a wiry little scrapper, aren't ya afraid you might scuff up that custom Italian suit?" Jack waved a finger up and down at Bruce's sartorial splendor.

"Come on over here and we'll see."

The surprise guest sauntered toward Bruce who instinctively stepped behind his desk where he had a few things he could use as weapons, such as a letter opener, a heavy paperweight, scissors...oh, shit, what was he thinking? He didn't want to battle the Joker in his own office.

"Just keep your distance. Now, again, how the hell did you get in here?"

"Oh, who the hell cares? Aren't you glad to see me?"

"Glad to _see _you! You have no business being here!"

"Oh, now, that's just not true."

"How do you figure?"

"Haven't you ever heard of a follow-up visit?"

"A follow-up...._what?"_

"I'm a professional, Mr...._Smith_, heh-heh...my clients' satisfaction is my number one priority...I just wanted to drop by and see how you were doing after our...session, the other night...." The Joker now leaned expansively on Bruce's desk, his hands spread wide apart, the dark eyes shimmering with something Bruce couldn't identify--menace? Mischief?...Desire?

_"Session? _That was...look, I don't want you here, what happened the other night served its purpose, but that's all. You did a very good job, but I don't want to see you ever again, don't you understand? And, how the hell did you find me, I want to know!"

The Joker picked up Bruce's gold name plaque and examined it with interest. He turned it to face its owner and waggled it playfully.

"I realize I've breached the agency's client confidentiality policy, Mr. _Waaayne, _but I neglected to get your contact information after fulfilling your...exacting requirements for my services the other night...you're not going to lodge a complaint about me, are you?" The Joker's grin had spun into a wicked smile.

"I'm going to bodily throw you out of here if you don't leave on your own...."

"Umm, now that sounds interesting, but I actually came here for a very specific purpose."

"If you think you're going to blackmail me, forget it...."

"_Blackmail_ you?" The Joker put on an exaggeratedly hurt expression. "What must you think of me! I wouldn't do that! The agency'd fire me for sure...."

"You're not here to blackmail me?"

"Uh-uh."

"Then, what the hell do you want?"

"Ah, a _relevant _question! Now you're talking....Look handsome, I just want another date with you." The Joker hopped up onto Bruce's desk, pulled up his knees and wrapped his arms around them. He cocked an eyebrow, awaiting Bruce's reaction.

_"What?_ You're cra...hey, get off my desk, you're going to scratch it..._"_

The Joker rolled his eyes, and continued, "Jesus, rich nancy boys....Look, we had a great time together, right?"

Bruce just stared.

_"Sure _we did! I thought we really hit it off! We've got a lot in common, don't you think?"

"I most certainly do _not_...." spat Bruce.

"Really? Well, anyway, I just thought, hey, wouldn't it be nice to see my new pal again? You know, on a strictly recreational occasion?"

"Listen, I am _done_ with you, I will not be 'seeing' you again, nor do I ever want to find you in my office...."

The Joker shook his head sorrowfully.

"Aw, now you're mad. I _was_ a little impulsive, hey, do you not like that? I'll just jot that down in your profile for future reference, let's see, 'Not into the spontaneity thing...." the Joker frowned thoughtfully as he pretended to write on an invisible clip board.

"GET OUT!"

"Oh, come on Brucey, can't you loosen up a little? You suuure did the other night...." The clown lasciviously licked his lips and winked.

Bruce was just contemplating wrapping his hands around the bastard's scrawny neck, to shut him up if nothing else, when a frantic-sounding female voice came over Bruce's intercom. It was his personal secretary, Janine.

"Mr. Wayne! There's someone here to see you _immediately, _and he won't take no for an answer!"

"Janine, I'm very busy right now, whoever it is will have to wait!"

"He's not willing to wait! He's...._hey, you can't go in there! Come back here, please!"_

Just then there was a rapid-fire knock on Bruce's office door. He and the Joker glanced at each other.

"Get out of here!" hissed Bruce.

"Sure, and how would you recommend I do that, got a secret exit or something?"

"No! Ok, then, hide!" Bruce gestured toward a door which led to his private bathroom.

"Ok..." To Bruce's dismay, the Joker scrambled over the expanse of Bruce's desk-top, knocking several things to the floor, and joined him behind it. They were nose to nose for a brief moment, then Jack dropped down, folded himself up and slid into the secluded leg-space under the desk.

"Hey, this is cozy, there's room enough for two, come on down!"

"I don't _think_ so, just stay there and be quiet..." The Joker giggled and reached up to grab Bruce's crotch.

"Stop that!" Bruce roughly grabbed the offending hand and flung it away from himself.

Just as the Joker's hand obediently disappeared back under the desk, the door opened and a large, heavy-set man lumbered in.

"Wayne, I'm _sorry, _but I don't have time for formalities..." boomed a thick, Texas drawl. Close at his heels was Bruce's secretary.

"Mr. Wayne, I'm so sorry, I tried to stop him, but..." Janine wailed.

"It's all right, I'll take care of this. Bobby Ray, how are you doing? What brings you back to Gotham so soon?" Janine, flustered, backed out of the room, and the two businessmen shook hands and took their seats, the Texan in front of Bruce's desk, the billionaire behind it. Momentarily forgetting his unwelcome visitor _under_ the desk, Bruce was startled when he swung his foot sharply forward and ran into something soft--the Joker's stomach--and was horrified to hear a muffled exhalation of pain. He anxiously watched Bobby Ray's face, but the big man was oblivious. Bruce recalled the Texan was a tad hard of hearing.

The Texan _did _notice Bruce's gasp of pain in response to the Joker's retaliatory bite on his ankle.

"What the hell's the matter with you, Wayne? Got a crawdad up your shorts?""N-no, just a little foot cramp, sorry, now, where were we? Oh, yes, how can I help you, Bobby Ray?"

"Wayne, do you keep up with the news?" Johnson asked accusingly.

"The news? Well, yes, more or less...."

"Then you _are_ aware that there is a madman loose in the streets of Gotham?"

"A...madman?" Bruce took a deep breath. "I don't...uh, I'm not sure what you're referring to...."

"There's this bastard in a clown mask pullin' bank jobs and jewelry heists all over town, and the crazy fucker got one of my banks night afore last--I want to know what the hell you're gonna do about it!"

Bruce's face twisted into a deep frown.

"I'm sorry to hear that, but what in the world do you think _I _can do about it?" Bruce asked, mystified. There was no way the man could know of his Batman persona....

"That bank is in one of YOUR buildings, and I have several branches in other Wayne properties, too! Now, I expect you to do something about your crummy security systems or I will pull my business right out of your lousy real estate market and...." The man went on in the same vein for a long while.

Bruce did his best to appear properly concerned and sympathetic to his guest, but found it increasingly difficult to ignore the fact that the Joker had untied and pulled off one of his shoes. That was disturbing enough, but then his sock was pulled off. Then, his pants leg was pulled up to mid-calf and the clown was now ministering to the deep teeth marks he had left earlier by running his tongue soothingly over the indentations before he began helpfully licking a path downward toward Bruce's exposed toes.

The brunet hastily tried to jerk and twist his foot away, desperate to maintain a placid countenance, but well aware of how difficult the situation was about to become due to the fact that Bruce was _extremely_ ticklish on his feet, and that the Joker now held his foot with a solid grip, and that wet tongue was headed to the sole of his....

The Texan stared, perplexed, as Bruce yelped and shot up and out of his chair.

"What the HELL'S the matter with you, boy?" the man demanded churlishly. He didn't register the muffled laughter that wafted from under the desk directly into Bruce's ears....

"N-nothing, it's just that foot cramp came back and...."

"Wayne, have you heard a single word I've said?"

"Yes, yes I have, and I can assure you, I will have someone take care of...your problem right away. I appreciate your giving me the opportunity to correct...."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, don't piss on me and tell me that it's raining, cowboy. Just know that if I lose another dollar to that, what's he calling himself, that JOKER bastard, I'll pack up all my money and take it back to Texas, understand?"

"Absolutely." The men shook hands again and the big Texas banker swaggered out of the office.

Dazed, Bruce sat down again, trying to remember who the hell was in charge of rental property security systems, when he suddenly realized the Joker had surfaced, knelt between his thighs, pulled his fly open and was busily going about the task of taking Bruce's cock out of his pants.

"Now, _STOP_ THAT! GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE...." Bruce blurted furiously as he instinctively struggled to evade those long, curious fingers delving inside his boxer shorts.

"Sh-sh-sh, just relax a minute...slippery little devil, isn't it?" asked Jack, his face a study in concentration as Bruce writhed uselessly in his chair."STOP IT!"

"Well, it won't take itself out!"

"GET _AWAY_ FROM ME!"

"Oh, don't be such a killjoy, this is a complimentary customer appreciation gift, no extra charge...."

"NO! NO, _stop_ it! _Don't! STOP!..._Uh, don't, um, stop...don't stop, oh, _shit_...."

The Joker's scarred lips were doing dirty, delicious things to the quickly awakening member, his tongue was warm and knowing, and Bruce could feel control and logic melting away into the clown's demanding mouth, soon leaving him in a semi-catatonic state of pleasure and relaxation that was most unprofessional.

The Joker had one hand wrapped low, and was attending to the upper area with suction alternating with licking action, when Janine abruptly flung open Bruce's office door.

"Mr. Wayne, I am _very upset! _May I speak with you a moment?" she asked tearfully.

The startled billionaire jerked his body forward, desperate to prevent his secretary from noticing the mop of curly blond hair inexplicably nesting in his lap, but the move forced the back of the Joker's head to violently meet the sharp edge of Bruce's middle drawer, and the surprise mixed with the pain caused the clown to unintentionally bite down hard on the object in his mouth, which resulted in a strangled scream from the billionaire.

Janine stared in horror as her boss, grasping at his crotch and whirling around to protect his modesty, frantically yelled "Get OUT!!" over his shoulder at her. Bursting into a renewed bout of tears, she ran from the office and slammed the door behind her.

The Joker came out from under the desk, ruefully rubbing the back of his head, then checking his fingers for blood, as Bruce miserably sank back into his chair, panting with stifled moans as the aftershock of the injury fully hit his brain.

"Will you PLEASE get out, now?" he wheezed painfully. Jack regarded him with some concern.

"No, no, no, we have to treat that, big guy. See why I carry an emergency kit with me on client calls? Ya never know _what's_ going to happen. 'Course, I didn't think I'd need it today...."

"Just get out...." Bruce pleaded.

"Uh-uh, human bites are very dangerous! Come on, come on, let's go take care of this...." Authoritatively, he yanked Bruce out of the chair and began dragging him toward the bathroom.

"Wait a minute!" Bruce hastily grabbed for his falling trousers as he stumbled after the clown. He allowed himself to be led to the sink, where Jack ran some warm water onto a washcloth and knelt in front of the dark-haired man to examine the damage.

"Hmm, well, I definitely left my mark on you....that broke the skin, top and, uh, bottom," he announced as he began to clean the affected area. "I bet that hurts!" he commented cheerily.

"It hurts like fucking crazy...." Bruce moaned piteously.

"Yeah, well I got more bad news for ya," the Joker stated as he rose to his feet and checked the medicine cabinet. "The only antiseptic you have is rubbing alcohol."

"NO!" shouted Bruce, vainly trying to scramble away from the criminal's ministrations.

"Just hold still, don't be such a baby! You don't want to get an infection, do you?" They struggled briefly until the Joker clamped an arm around Bruce's waist in an iron grasp and unceremoniously poured half the bottle over Bruce's penis. Bruce gave a sharp, high-pitched screech like one in torment.

"OH _SHIT!_ Shit, shit, _shit_...." Bruce gurgled in agony, bending in two and clutching himself. How he wished they were in some alley, he in his Kevlar, him in his greasepaint, so that Bats could smash his obnoxious little face in....

"Hey, you're not the only one that got hurt, you know. My head hurts, and it's _your_ fault!" said the jester accusingly.

"Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck...." Bruce moaned.

The Joker stared in consternation like a kid with a broken toy. He sniffed irritably before announcing sarcastically, "Well, this has been fun, but I should be going...." Obviously, his plan to figure out where he'd previously met the big guy had taken a bad turn. He'd _never_ relax enough to spill the beans now. He'd have to take another, uh, stab at it another day. Resignedly, Jack turned, still rubbing the back of his head, and Bruce's pain-clouded vision cleared enough to realize that the bastard really was leaving.

_"Wait!" _he rasped.

"What?" Jack turned back impatiently.

"Don't you want to plan our date?" Bruce asked weakly. _What the fuck? Had he really SAID that?? Oh, God...._

Jack stared a moment, then his face dissolved into a pleased grin. Maybe he could get his question answered after all....

"Well, sure! How about Wednesday? Maybe you'll have healed up by then...."

"Ok..." agreed Bruce hopelessly.

"And, if not...."--The Joker was at Bruce's side in an instant--"maybe we can just...talk. You know--get to know each other a little better." He pressed a deep kiss on the ailing billionaire's lips and was then gone in a flash, leaving Bruce to numbly stare after him.

The worst of the pain having finally passed, Bruce bent over the sink and washed his face. Before pulling up his pants, he gingerly examined the wounded areas. Teeth marks. The damn _Joker's_ teeth marks, carved into the most sensitive skin on his body!! And here he was, planning to see the madman again in two day's time....

Clearly, he was going insane. Clearly, he needed to ...something triggered a thought in Bruce's memory. He opened the medicine cabinet.

There, in plain sight, sat a fresh tube of soothing antiseptic pain-relieving gel, guaranteed not to burn. Bruce picked it up and glared at the doorway, as if the clown were still in the room.

Clearly, _Batman _needed to arrange for a nice, unprofessional encounter with the _Joker_....one that would result in the clown needing lots of bandages...and a _lot _of rubbing alcohol.


	6. The Joker at Work

_In the previous chapter, Bruce had a surprise visit from Jack. This takes place late in the night of that same day:_

The Joker had a job to do. It was short notice; but things happened fast in his line of work. It was rumored that the mayor of Gotham was set to sign a city ordinance that would make several key downtown streets one-way; a seemingly innocuous piece of legislation meant to improve public safety and ease traffic congestion. However, there was one particular group which strongly opposed this change.

That group was the A.U.S.W.G.C.--otherwise awkwardly known as the Association of United Sanitation Workers of Gotham City--and they were passionately opposed to this new law because it would wreak havoc with the routes their large garbage trucks took in and around the downtown area. It would create undue hardship on the traffic managers, the drivers, and, ultimately, the businesses that paid so well-under the table-to assure good service and regular pick-ups of their stinky, unwanted trash.

It would create yet another pain-in-the-ass for Sal Maroni, head of one of the largest crime families in Gotham, and for his favorite "legitimate" business, GothamClean, the main provider of trash pick-up services in the greater Gotham area. He had put his nephew, Marco, in charge and the poor kid had enough trouble what with businesses trying to get out of paying, driver's quitting because of poor working conditions, and the expense of keeping the fleet of garbage trucks in compliance with the new emissions codes--yet another obstacle to free enterprise which the dear mayorhad recently put into effect.

The _mayor_, in Sal's opinion, had gotten a bit too big for his britches.

Yes, the mayor of Gotham was trying to live the life of a hero, taking on great causes like the environment and public health. But he sure was screwing things up for the common worker, people like Maroni and his nephew, who were just trying to make a buck the old-fashioned way, through hard work and good service. Yes, he was a hero to certain bleeding heart liberals on the Gotham City Council, but as far as Maroni was concerned, it was time for this hero to change his ideals. Time for him to go to work for the REAL people, the ones who paid his salary....

Sure, give the guy a chance to live long enough to become a villain in the eyes of his favorite lackeys if he wished, but he had to be taken off this track of unnecessary do-good-ing. He needed to be given a new outlook on his role in city government, and he needed someone to help him develop a better appreciation for his constituency, the ones who could offer some real grassroots support when he needed it. And Maroni knew just the guy to do it--a certain clown who'd done some work for him before.

* * *

Somewhere high in an abandoned office building on the east side of town, the Joker had the mayor tied to a chair, gagged and bleeding from a series of superficial, but painful, knife wounds on and about his throat. Two of his men stood by, ready to help if needed, but the Joker had things under control. He had a dripping blade in his hand, and was now cheerfully playing at seeing how deeply he could cut the area on the mayor's neck where the jugular vein was housed without actually severing it, when Batman dropped in, literally, swinging through a rear window, using the retractable line from his grappling hook as his mode of transportation.

"Oh, Batsy!" exclaimed the mayor's tormentor in mock dismay. "Did I invite you to this little tea party? I think not. Get 'im, boys!" the Joker coolly ordered.

The Caped Crusader easily and silently dispatched the two henchmen, knocking out the first one with a powerful jab from his right fist, and dropping the second with a perfectly placed karate chop to the back of the head. He then began to advance on their green-haired, clown-faced boss.

The two adversaries stood about four feet apart, the captive and now semi-hysterical city official positioned between them. The Joker held his knife firmly on the mayor's already bloody neck, while Batman's right hand was poised and ready to release an onslaught of flying blades from his other gauntlet aimed directly at the Joker's face.

"Drop the knife and let 'im go...." rasped the Bat softly.

"Aw, ok, Batman, I'll do just that. _After _you take off your little mask and show us who you really are...."

_"I said, LET HIM GO!!" _barked the Dark Knight in a commanding growl

The Joker stood stock still. Something in the man's sudden switch to a deep, forceful voice struck a chord in the clown's memory. Let him go...LET HIM _GO? Waaait a minute_...wait just a freaking minute! That _voice. _That gravelly, raspy voice....It was the one from the other night! That marvelous, growl-y, sexy voice commanding him to lie down so the man could...oh. Oh, yeah. Oh, _yeah! _Ah, ha ha, so, it was _Bruce. _Bruce Smith, no, wait, _Wayne! _

_His _Bruce Wayne!

Oh, shit. _The Batman was Bruce Wayne! _

His formerly-virgin, up-tight, cute-as-a-bug would-be boyfriend! The one who he had already had the pleasure of fucking! And being fucked _by_, too--hard, in the ass! Just the way he liked it! Oh. Oh, no, this was good, this was TOO good....The Joker could hardly contain himself as a shiver of giggles raced up from his belly into his throat, where he almost strangled himself trying to stifle the joyous outcry of excitement.

Oh, what to do, what to do...he really wanted to just kill the damn mayor and throw the Bat to the floor and ravish him in triumph, but that wasn't in the contract, so he decided he'd better get the hell out of there and think over this new development to see how he could work it to his best advantage. Even though he REALLY wanted to stay and play with his new delicious discovery....

Once he had regained control over his giddy exhilaration, and forced himself not to bounce up and down in delight, he gave Batman a cool look of appraisal. The Joker knew there was a large picture window directly behind himself, providing an easy means of escape. Ok, go time. Batman had begun to think the clown had lost his nerve when he finally spoke, his voice trembling a tiny bit.

"Su-sure, Bats, here you are. One happy little mayor, safe and sound." He obediently dropped his knife off to the side, lifted his hands into the air in surrender, and slowly leaned down slightly to speak in a loud whisper into the mayor's ear.

"Just remember, if you don't want things to get even MORE interesting for you, you need to be cooperative when certain people speak. Votes aren't everything, now are they?" The Joker then straightened up, smiled, and unceremoniously kicked the back of the chair _hard_, propelling the mayor and his chair forward, into the Bats' path, while simultaneously taking a gun from his waistband and shooting out the glass behind him. Lithely hopping out onto the ledge, the Joker turned and said casually, "See ya Wednesday for our _date, _Bats!" and quietly disappeared around the corner of the building before Batman could say two words.

And, those two words were, "Oh, _fuck..."_


	7. The Joker Cancels!

**A/N: Hope you all are still enjoying the story, please review, my dears!! Thank you, thank you....**

Batman returned to his cave feeling slightly defeated. There was no question--the damn Joker now knew his true identity. He also knew where he worked by day and probably, by this time, where he lived his "normal" life in the penthouse. At best, his ability to continue to fight crime would be severely compromised; at worst, the Joker would decide to hurt him, or even kill him, and would have a good chance of succeeding unless "Bruce Wayne" chose to disappear.

The bat costume now put away, Bruce dressed in street clothes and contemplated his next move. He had a wretched "date" with the man for the following evening; perhaps the best thing to do was to forget about his sick desires, his burning need to take the criminal to bed again for another round of lust-filled sexual exploits, and focus on properly capturing him and delivering him to Jim Gordon at the Major Crimes Unit, as he should have done in the first place.

He sighed. Why was nothing in his life ever easy?

Bruce made his way upstairs to his penthouse, and called out "Alfred! I'm home, what's there to eat?" as he entered. He picked up a stack of mail and was idly flipping through it when he heard a muffled noise that sounded like a man trying to cry out around something stuffed in his mouth. His heart sinking, Bruce quickly followed the sound to the kitchen and found Alfred, bound and gagged in a chair in the breakfast nook, still wearing the flour-covered light blue apron he'd had on when he was interrupted in preparing dinner. Bruce noted that the top of the apron had been decorated with a crude, dripping, up-turned smile rendered in what at first looked like blood, but which turned out to be merely ketchup.

"Shit...." Bruce hastily pulled the dish rag from his butler's mouth and grabbed a kitchen knife to cut the ropes holding the older man captive.

"Master Wayne, it was the Joker...." Alfred gasped as soon as he could speak.

_"There's a shock," _thought Bruce grimly, but aloud he said, "Are you all right? Did he hurt you?"

"No, no sir. But he said to give you a message. He said to tell you there's been a change of plans, that he won't be able to meet you tomorrow night after all. He said to say...." Alfred paused as if the burden of relaying the rest of the message was too much for him.

"What, Alfred? What did he say?" prodded Bruce, although he was inwardly cringing.

Alfred turned away from his employer as soon as he was unbound, not wanting to look him in the eyes when he relayed the awful words entrusted to him. He took a deep breath before speaking, and even then, repeating the statement didn't come easily to him.

"He said to say...oh, dear...he said to say he hated missing out on a...'good _fuck_'...but that he'd make it up to you. In _spades_. Then he...."

"What?"

"He said to do this," and Alfred reluctantly touched his fingertips to his lips in a "blowing a kiss" gesture. He stared miserably at his employer. "He said to do it exactly in that way. He made me..._practice."_

"I'm so sorry...."

"He said...he said if I didn't do it correctly he'd know it. He said he would come back, and we'd have to...go over it again. But, it would have to be done with more..._expression,"_ and Alfred gestured to the grisly-appearing image on the front of his apron.

Bruce hastily began looking around the room, and quickly discovered a small remote camera stuck on the front of the refrigerator, trained directly at them. He could well imagine the Joker, watching both men's discomfiture, laughing his sick-bastard ass off.

"Master Wayne, what ever have you gotten yourself into?" asked the butler worriedly, now studying his employer's frowning face.

"I don't know, Alfred.," Bruce responded as he pulled off the camera and ground it under his heel.

"I just don't know."

* * *

Bruce started to head up to his bedroom when he discovered another small camera in the dining room. Infuriated, he began a careful sweep of the entire downstairs, finding camera after camera, all, apparently, pointedly trained on specific items or areas--the couch, the bear-skin rug in the den, the dining room table...seemingly meaningless and unrelated, but it didn't take Bruce long to get the idea.

"All places where the Joker would like to have sex with me," he thought in disgust.

He even found one pointed at the washing machine.

"Jesus," thought Bruce as he pulled it down and smashed it. Satisfied that he had covered the entire lower floor, he headed upstairs, with a growing sense of doom.

He walked into his bedroom, flipped on the light switch, and sure enough--there was a full-sized video camera on a tripod, positioned directly at the bed, with two movie-style portable lights on either side of the headboard and a brand new bottle of lube and a fresh box of condoms on Bruce's night stand. On the bed itself was a single rose, a gift-wrapped box and an envelope.

Bruce stared in horror. It would be no surprise to him if there were a bomb in that box. He gingerly picked up the envelope, which had a cheery smiley-face on it next to his name, "Bruce," written in neat block letters. He opened it.

"B--

"PLEASE don't be mad at me for cancelling our date!!!! _(The "please" was underlined several times.)_ I will be seeing you SOON (sooner than you'll see me--SMILE, ha ha!)...." Bruce irritably checked the video cam and found it was, indeed, recording. He angrily switched it off. "...But don't worry, we'll be together again before you know it, and when we are, I hope you'll be wearing my present. Enjoy!

"Later,

"J.

"XOXOXO."

_"Oh, God," _Bruce thought as he carefully picked up the box and began unwrapping it.

Inside was a leopard print thong and a pair of handcuffs.

Bruce thought a moment, then dug around in his nightstand and found a lighter. He picked up the thong distastefully and turned the video cam on again. He stood before it and spoke directly to the lens.

"I'll be seeing you in hell before you see me in this thing." He then flicked the lighter and set fire to the unappealing garment. He then turned back to the camera and said, "I suggest you give your notice to the escort agency. Next time we get together, I'm going to see to it that you go away for a long, long time, and you might want to let them know that they'll need to find a suitable replacement. If that's possible." He stamped out the burning lingerie and again switched off the camera. Just then, his cell phone rang. Bruce pulled it out of his pocket and checked the number. Unknown.

"Hello?" he answered.

All he heard was peal after peal of gleeful, maniacal laughter.


	8. Bruce Finds the Joker

**A/N: Hello! Well, this is the last chapter for this little story. I really appreciate everyone reading and reviewing, you guys gave me so much encouragement, thank you! I will be posting another story that I did for Live Journal soon, and I will be focusing on "Not Over Yet", so more to come from me. Thanks again, and please tell me what you think of this last chapter, I hope it is enjoyable for you!!**

**Seds**

*****

Bruce hurried down to the bat cave and with sheer determination overcoming exhaustion as well as his better judgment, he dressed again as Batman. He pulled the handcuffs the Joker had given him out of his pocket and hooked them onto a D-ring on his utility belt along with the key, and stuck a handful of condoms and the tube of lubricant in a pouch. He was done playing the Joker's games, but he would be sure to put the "presents" to good use.

Before leaving, Batman rummaged through a particular cabinet and added a few special items to his pack of necessary equipment for the evening he was now planning.

If the Joker couldn't make their date tomorrow, Batman would pay him a little surprise visit _tonight. _All he had to do was find him.

Bats headed downtown to the office building in which Arturo's Day or Night Escort Agency had its headquarters. He shot a batarang with an attached wire up to a stanchion on the sixth floor and released the catch, propelling him straight up in the air to land on the ledge just outside the office window. He quickly jimmied it open and let himself in; he silently scoped out the layout and found that there was only one person on duty at the front desk, a woman. Bats listened to her speaking into an earpiece and remembered--she was the one who set him up with the Joker in the first place, and her name was Donna--he waited until she hung up the phone and slipped in quietly behind her and placed a chloroform-soaked rag under her nose. He then quickly jammed a chair under the exit door's knob, ensuring no one would interrupt him.

He gently picked up Donna and lay her on the floor, then took a seat in her desk chair. The computer program used to schedule the escorts' appointments was already open and he rapidly typed in the phone number he had for the Joker's services. A list of contacts came up and below that a calendar. Bruce found that day's clients--there were three, but the first two "meetings" should have already taken place--and he jotted down the address and the time of the last appointment, which was due to begin in about twenty minutes.

Batman carefully replaced the unconscious woman in her chair so that she wouldn't fall and hastily made his way out the same way he came in. Except in reverse.

******

The Joker had had a busy evening. First, a minor bank heist which had turned out to be terribly disappointing, what with the clerks slavishly giving up the cash without argument, leading to a flurry of non-deaths, and the police stupidly heading to the wrong branch--couldn't they tell the difference between 112 South 58th Street and 112 South 85th Street? Did they teach them nothing in cop school? The upshot being, the Joker and his minions were able to drive away at a leisurely pace, not even raising his heart rate much less his blood pressure.

Hardly worth the bother, fun-quotient-wise.

Then, he'd had two routine appointments, nothing exciting there. But this one--this one should prove to be interesting, he thought.

The Joker rang the bell of apartment 2-G and waited for his victim to open the door.

* * *

Batman found the address of the Joker's last appointment of the evening, and parked the Tumbler in an inconspicuous spot. He headed for the second floor, and just caught a glimpse of the Joker being greeted at the door by a man who Bats assumed to be a Mr. Don DeMarco, the name of the client listed on the Joker's roster. He stood quietly in the shadows for a moment, considering. How long would it take the Joker to service this guy?

And what, exactly, would he be doing _with_ him, or for him, or _to_ him....Bats didn't like the feeling he got when he thought of the Joker having sex with someone else, and then he didn't like the fact that he felt that way. He shook off an urge to break into the apartment and pull the scarred blond maniac off of, or out of, or out from _under,_ the client--whichever would prove to be appropriate--and drag him to the bat cave and lock him up, thereby protecting Gotham, while at the same time having the clown all to himself....but no. He was here to apprehend a criminal, and that was what he intended to do.

But, what if the Joker left through the window for some reason? Or, what if this was some extended service he had "signed up for" that would take hours? Bats was just about to see how difficult it would be to let himself into the residence when a muffled "pop!!" sound went off inside the apartment. The sound of a gun equipped with a silencer....Batman hastily kicked in the door and found the Joker, fully clothed, standing over a man in his underwear, lying prone on the floor. The trickle of blood flowing from his head was quickly turning into a black pool of goo.

The Joker glanced up, the gun in his hand, and said with mild surprise, "Bats! What are you doing here? Heyyyy--I know you're upset about me cancelling our date, but jeeze, following me while I work? That's kind of creepy, you know."

"Did you just kill that man?" Bats asked incredulously.

"What, him? Well, I hope so." The Joker stuck a foot under the man's shoulder and flipped him over. He _was_ quite dead. "Yeah, there you go. Out like a light. I do good work...."

"_Work? _I thought he was one of your clients!"

"Oh, that was a, whataya call it, a _ruse..._this creeps's a hard one to catch, we had to set 'im up...."

"The escort agency's a front for a _mob_ organization?"

"No, no, it's strictly legit, but it's owned by a guy with, heh, _connections_...he does a favor for certain parties, now and again...that's how I got mixed up with 'em in the first place, see...."

"You posed as an escort in order to carry out a hit?"

"Yeah! Well, at first...then, I found that I kind of liked the work...it was, uh, real humanitarian stuff, you know? Giving poor dried up old ladies a thrill, helping some pathetic closet case realize his dreams...." Grinning, the Joker came up to Batman and ran his fingers over the unmasked part of his face affectionately. "It was...very satisfying. A chance to give back to the community that's given so much to me--unwillingly, of course, but still!" The Joker broke into semi-maniacal laughter, almost bending double at the sight of Batman staring at him, nonplussed.

"You worked for the escort agency...because you liked 'helping' people?" Bats asked warily.

"Sure! I'm not a complete jerk. Take YOU, for instance...." The Joker now stood directly in front of Batman, and held the gun to his throat with one hand, grasping his shoulder with the other. "I really think I made a difference in _your_ life, didn't I?" He cocked his head sideways, looking directly into the masked man's eyes.

"Yee-ahhh, I think I did you some good, right? I mean, all those inhibitions, all that restraint and repression--that's not healthy, Bats. Don't ya feel better? Doesn't it, uh, give you a new lease on life to know--that you like _dick?" _With that, he pressed his lips to the dark hero's and kissed him deeply. Batman found himself pulling the slight clown to him and returning the kiss. He then pulled the gun from the man's hand--he made no attempt to resist--and broke it apart into pieces. The Joker watched approvingly.

"You're going to prison, you know that, right?" Batman rasped.

"Sure, whatever. But, don't you want one last roll in the hay with me? Come on, Bats, I've always wanted to do you in your costume, how about it--one last fuck for the road? Hmm?" The Joker had been impossibly warm and wriggly in his arms and the dark eyes sparkled with lust and mischief and Batman found himself melting into his own desires....

"Ok," he said gruffly. "But not here." He pulled the handcuffs off his belt and clamped them onto the Joker's thin wrists. He looked at them and grinned.

"Where you takin' me, Batsy?" he asked as the bigger man guided him out of the apartment, heading toward the stairs.

"Back to my place."

"Mmm, I liked the looks of that hot tub...you think your butler would fix us a little midnight snack?"

"Not _that_ place."

"Ooo, you have a little love nest tucked away somewhere?"

"You might say that." With that, Batman pulled a vial out of his pouch and in a smooth motion that took the blond by surprise, the vigilante administered a dose of chloroform to the deadly clown, who would have dropped straight to the floor, but the Bat caught him and slung him over his shoulder and carried him to the Tumbler to take him to the bat cave.

*****

The Joker awoke feeling hazy. It took him a moment to realize that he was lying on an old iron cot, with his hands secured above his head by the handcuffs looped through the iron slats, and then he realized that he was naked under a light cotton blanket. He looked around, momentarily bewildered, and found that he was in a small cell within a large cavernous, apparently underground area. He heard footsteps and twisted his head around to see Batman approach.

The Bat unlocked the cage door, stepped in and relocked it, then slid the key into a pocket. He removed a pouch from his utility belt, and began taking out items and setting them on a small table by the Joker's head. Condoms, lube, a rather vicious looking vibrator, rubbing alcohol...the Joker bit his lower lip worriedly and said, "What's all that, Batsy?"

"Oh, good, you're awake. Well, this is myvendor appreciation kit."

"Huh?"

"In light of the excellent job you've done for me since I engaged your services, this is just my way of saying thanks and farewell." Batman sat in a chair and pulled off his boots, then began loosening the lower part of his armor, sliding it down and then off, leaving him fully costumed down to his waist, but with only a pair of black silk boxer shorts below it. He pulled those off and strode over to the Joker's side, a huge erection bouncing ominously along as he walked.

"Uh-huh...ok. So...what are you going to..._do?" _asked the blond man delicately.

"Make your dreams come true, clown," growled the Bat, pulling the blanket off the scrawny jester's naked body and forcing his legs wide apart with one knee as he settled himself between them.

The Joker looked up at him and gave a weak smile.

"Oh, I get it, you're mad at me, right?"

"Now, why would I be mad?"

"Uh...."

The Bat leaned forward, supporting himself on his outstretched arms, so that he was staring straight down into the Joker's eyes, just inches away from his nose.

"Let's see...could it be because you tied up and terrified my elderly butler? Broke into my house and turned it into your own personal porno movie set? Or, what about dousing me with rubbing alcohol on a VERY sensitive part of my anatomy when there was a perfectly good antiseptic gel right beside it in the medicine cabinet?" He paused for a breath and the Joker took the opportunity to interject.

"Now, Bats, I was just trying to take care of you, I didn't notice the other thing...."

"Well, then, how about sneaking into my office and putting me in a very awkward situation with an important business associate? Or, revealing our relationship to the Mayor--after you finished _torturing_ him? Hmm? Should I be _MAD_ about any of that?"

"Let's take a minute to discuss. I--"

"And, last but not least, should I be a LITTLE pissed off that you watched a _football _game during my very first experience with another man? And what about calling me all those names, like pansy and 'nancy boy' and queer? Huh? DO YOU THINK ANY OF THAT MIGHT MAKE ME _MAD?"_

"I think you're overreacting just a tad."

"And, to top it off, you cancelled our damn DATE without any explanation whatsoever! WHAT THE HELL WAS SO _IMPORTANT_ THAT YOU COULDN'T MAKE TIME FOR _ME, _HUH?"

The Joker looked up into the stormy dark eyes behind the mask and said apologetically, "I had to _work, _sweetie...."

"_WORK!! _You're a goddamned ASSASSIN and a BANK ROBBER and a...a _PAID_ _ESCORT! _That's not what I call _work!"_

"But, Batsy, don't you see? I had to move some things around a little...I turned in my notice at the escort agency, and I had that one last job to do, so I moved that to tonight, but that meant the only time I had to blow up the transit authority's main office was tomorrow night, and--"

_"You're going to blow up the transit authority's main office?" _Batman asked, horrified.

"Uh-huh. Maroni's really pissed off at them, they won't give his sanitation trucks the right of way on the south side, so...."

Dazed, Batman crawled off of the cot and woodenly began to pick up his leggings from the cold cement floor.

_"Now _what're you doing?" asked the Joker, dismayed.

"I'm just going to take you to the MCU and leave you there. I can't...I can't in good conscience keep you here. You're...you're just...you're just beyond hope. You need to be in Arkham, or locked up somewhere for good...." he muttered.

The Joker frowned. This wasn't going well.

"Aw, come on Bats, don't change the agenda! What were you going to do, torture me a little before fucking me senseless? I think that's a pretty good plan, we should stick with _that...."_

"No."

"Why not? What good is it going to do to leave this thing we have between us unresolved? Don't you want closure?"

_"Closure...?"_

"Yeah! I had some fun at your expense, and now you've got me where you want me! Come on, look at your cute little props here, don't you want to make use of 'em? The saddest words in life are 'it might have been....'"

"You're insane."

"I am NOT! I'm just...interesting."

Bats paused as he was about to pull on his pants, looking quizzically at the Joker.

"Did you say you turned in your notice at the escort agency?"

"Yep."

"Why'd you do that?"

The Joker looked at him for a moment and then turned his head toward the wall.

"Never mind, it doesn't matter."

"No, I want to know. Why?"

"Forget it, it's not important."

Batman sighed irritably and went to sit next to his captive on the cot.

"Tell me."

The Joker turned his head back to him and said, "Take off the handcuffs."

"Now, why does that NOT sound like a good idea?"

"Come on, Bats, just do it. What am I gonna do to you like this?" he asked, glancing down at his naked body. Reluctantly, the Bat reached up and unlocked the restraints. The Joker sat up, rubbing his wrists.

"Did you look at those?" the Joker asked, indicating the handcuffs.

"Well--yes, I mean, they're right here, I can see them...."

"No, no, I mean _really_ look at them."

"Uh...no."

"Look. Here," he pointed to a spot which Bats had assumed to be some sort of serial number on one of the manacles. Batman held it closer and realized the markings were actually an inscription. He glanced at the Joker who was sitting somberly beside him. "Read it," he directed.

_"'As you bind me, so am I freed.' _What the hell does that mean?" asked Bats bitterly as he looked back at the clown.

The Joker rolled his eyes. "Don't you understand? I was gonna cuff us together, as a joke, but it's supposed to be...symbolic, too. 'Cause we should be, you know. Together. You and me. _You..._complete _me."_

Bats continued to look bewildered. The Joker continued to try explaining.

"Look. I...I know I pissed you off. But--I didn't do it to hurt you, uh, much...I mean, I just...I just keep thinking about you, and I wanted _you..._to think about _me. _Even when we couldn't be together. So I did stuff...to remind you. That's all."

"Well, you accomplished the hell out of that."

They sat silently for a moment, each lost in his own thoughts. Then the Joker spoke.

"So, what were you planning to do to me?" he asked interestedly.

"A few bruises and abrasions. Possibly a contusion or two...."

"Subdural hematoma?"

"If you like."

The two grinned at each other, then they moved closer together and slipped into an embrace. Bats carefully took one of the Joker's hands and clapped a cuff around his wrist. He stood up and removed the rest of his costume, then took the empty cuff and placed it around his own wrist and pulled the Joker to him for a deep, passionate kiss. They were soon stretched out on the cot in each other's arms, kissing and exploring each other's bodies. Suddenly, Bruce grasped the Joker's face in his free hand and stared into his dark eyes.

"So, _why'd_ you say you quit the escort agency?"

"Aw, don't play dumb, you know."

Bruce shook his head. "I want to hear you say it."

Another eye roll, but the Joker answered, "Because. I don't...I don't want to be with anybody else, anymore. Just you. Just...with you." His brown eyes followed every movement on Bruce's face as he waited for a response.

Bruce sighed and reached for a condom. The Joker took it from him, opened it, and tried to roll it onto Bruce's straining member, but it turned out to be a much more challenging proposition than usual with one hand cuffed to the other man's. He cackled as Bruce attempted to help him, and once that task was attended to, he lay back, parting his legs as Bruce regained his position on his knees and began applying lube to himself.

He eased into his lover, who gave a soft groan as the thick phallus stretched him open just a bit more than was comfortable, but Bruce went slowly. He pushed steadily until he was in to the hilt, and the Joker giggled a bit as the initial sharp pain slowly ebbed then finally subsided entirely.

"Fuck me, Batsy...come on, do it...I need it" he gasped eagerly.

"Wait, I haven't beaten the crap out of you yet."

"How about after?"

"Ok."

They moved together, their bodies desperately seeking each other's warmth and strength, two halves of a very disturbing whole, and as Bruce thrust harder and deeper, the Joker thrashed fiercely against him, teeth and nails leaving their marks, calloused heels digging into Bruce's lower back, and the blinding pleasure brought them both to powerful orgasms within seconds of each other. Afterwards, Bruce made no move to disengage, and the Joker held him tightly, not wanting to lose the completion of having his lover inside him.

They finally broke apart, the fingers of their bound hands intertwined, and the Joker looked at Bruce.

"So, you gonna take me in now? Or what?"

"I...I don't know."

"Listen, here's a thought, you can keep me down here as your sex slave if you want, I got nothin' else to do. Apart from the blowing up thing tomorrow, I mean. That's kind of on a tight schedule, if you don't want dozens of people killed, anyway."

"Change of plans--that's not happening."

"Well, Maroni won't be happy about that."

"Too bad."

"Uh, yeah, too bad for me. He'll have me killed, like, _quick. _Not quick-_ly_, mind you. I don't think he likes me much."

Bruce propped himself up on his free hand and looked worriedly into the Joker's eyes.

"He'd have you killed for not going through with the bombing?"

"Oh, yeah."

"Shit."

"Mmm."

"I have to take you in, Joker--at least you'll be safe."

The Joker dissolved into laughter.

"You're a funny guy, Bats! Yeah, _nothin'_ could happen to me in one of Gotham's fine criminal justice facilities...."

"So, what am I supposed to do with you?"

"Let me go."

"No way."

"Look, let's make a deal--you let me go. As long as I can see you once in a while, I'll limit my bad behavior to controlled mayhem--nobody dies, other than the occasional mob scum-bag that has it coming anyway."

"I can't trust you!"

"Sure you can! If I don't come through for ya, it's over, lock me up. But, it'll be ok, I'll show you. I _promise...."_

Bruce gave him an appraising look.

"What if I want to see you--all the time?" he asked softly.

"Uh...well, I'm not the marrying kind, Brucey. Buuut--let's see what happens. Give me a chance. What do you say? Let me go?" He cocked an eyebrow inquiringly at his lover and waited for his response.

Bruce frowned, feeling helpless. He was silent for a long time, then finally said, "I'll probably regret this, but...ok. I'll get your clothes." He unlocked the cuffs, stood and pulled on his underwear, then fished the cage key out of his utility belt and went to get the Joker's things.

The Joker got dressed and they embraced and kissed again.

"Don't let me down, J."

"I won't! You'll see...we can go on like this forever."

"I hope so."

"Don't worry."

Bruce got his own street clothes and dressed. He led the Joker to one of his "regular" cars and they got in, headed for the surface.

When they hit the street, Bruce asked, "So, where should I take you?"

"Anywhere, big guy. Anyplace I hang my hat is home, you know."

"You don't wear a hat."

"Whatever."

Bruce pulled over on a busy downtown street and the Joker hopped out and disappeared into the night.

* * *

The following evening, Bruce and Alfred were watching television when their program was interrupted with a bulletin. There had been a mysterious explosion that destroyed the Gotham Transit Authority's main office. As it happened, there was no one in the building at the time and no one was hurt. The police department's arson unit was looking into it.

Bruce looked at Alfred, who was shaking his head in a disapproving manner.

"The criminals in this town are becoming so much bolder, and their crimes are becoming more meaningless, more random. It's as if the whole city were losing its collective mind. Do you have any idea who might be responsible for such a destructive act, sir?"

"No Alfred. No idea at all."

"I suppose there's no end in sight for Batman, is there, sir?"

"No, I guess not."

_"Not yet," _he thought to himself with a small smile.

The End.


End file.
